


Share With Me The Blankets That You're Wrapped In

by oakven_readream



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Chess, Friendship, Gen, Sick Spock (Star Trek), Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22953580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakven_readream/pseuds/oakven_readream
Summary: Jim looks after a sick Spock. No romance intended, although they do share a bed. And Jim has some issues with Spock's interior design skills.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	Share With Me The Blankets That You're Wrapped In

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek and I don't make any money with this story.  
> The title is from the song 'Vulnerable' by Secondhand Serenade.

Captain James T. Kirk had just arrived outside his first officer's quarters. Their shift had ended an hour ago with Spock extending an invitation for chess after dinner. The rec rooms had been unusually crowded as of late, so they had decided to relocate to his quarters. Jim buzzed for entry and the door slid open a moment later.

"Captain," Spock greeted. "Please do come in."

"Good evening, Spock," Jim replied, stepping into the room. His eyes sought out the shelf behind the desk where Spock normally kept his chess board, but it wasn't in its usual place.

Noticing his startled expression Spock said. "As you are no doubt aware, captain, I only have one chair in my quarters. However, I believe it to be an acceptable solution if we instead sit down on the bed." He walked over to the sleeping area and Jim followed, a little bemused.

They could have just taken the chair from his own room next door, he thought. Actually, he had expected Spock to organize a second chair from somewhere before he even arrived, efficient as always. But this solution was fine with him, too, if a little unexpected.

While Jim was lost in thought, Spock had already taken off his shoes and sat down cross-legged on the upper end of the bed. Jim removed his boots as well and then mimicked his posture, careful not to jostle the chess board between them as he sat down. Spock had placed it on a large book to keep it from tipping over, but it still looked a little unstable to him.

Jim took a moment to look around the room. It was by no means the first time he was in his first officer's quarters, but he'd never had a chance to examine the sleeping area up close before. The walls were hung with heavy, red curtains, adorned with traditional Vulcan weapons, and a large stone gargoyle sat in an alcove, grinning maniacally at Jim while emitting a flickering red light from its torso.

It might have been a little creepy had Jim been less well acquainted with Spock's personality and pacifistic nature. Nevertheless, he couldn't refrain to comment: "Admit it, Spock, you just insisted on playing here instead of the rec room to have me distracted from the game by the environment."

Spock titled his head, blinking uncomprehendingly. "I fail to see what issues you have with the appearance of my quarters. I thought we had agreed earlier on a change in location?"

He sounded genuinely confused and Jim, thinking that he had not caught on to the teasing note in his voice, hurried to assure him: "Yes, of course, Spock. I was just joking. I apologize if the comment about your room offended you."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Vulcans don't get offended," he said, his voice holding just enough inflection for Jim to realize he was now being teased in return.

"Of course not," he therefore replied with a smile and then reached out towards the board to make his first move.

\-----

They had been playing for a while when Jim noticed Spock was making unusually many mistakes. Wondering if he was trying to let him win for some reason he was just about to call him out on it when Spock suddenly started coughing. And not just a short clearing-of-one's-throat coughing, but actually clutching his chest and doubling over as he fought to get his breathing back under control. The chess board swayed precariously at the sudden movement but Jim paid it no mind.

"Spock, are you alright..." he started, trying to reach out for his friend to provide assistance, but Spock turned away from him, holding up his hand in a dismissive gesture.

Jim got up anyway, quickly walking into the bathroom to retrieve a glass of water. Luckily, Spock had recovered when he returned and nodded in thanks as Jim handed him the glass.

"Are you feeling unwell?", Jim asked, watching as Spock took a few sips and then leaned over to place the glass on the nightstand.

"I am fine, captain," Spock assured him. "I might have just swallowed the wrong way."

Jim frowned at the strange phrasing, picking up on the kind of deliberate disguising of truth that Spock used instead of outright lying. He still nodded, seemingly convinced, and resumed his seat on the bed. He didn't want to call Spock out on his lie, but resolved to keep a closer eye on him. That cough had sounded rather congested more like illness than swallowing incorrectly.

Five moves later Jim had Spock in checkmate again. "Are you sure you're alright, Spock?" he asked while they reset the pieces. It rarely happened that Spock was distracted enough for Jim to win multiple games in a row and, as far as he knew, there hadn't been any interesting developments during the last few days of travel that could have caused such inattentiveness.

Spock passed a hand over his face in a strangely human-like manner.

"I must admit, captain, that I am feeling unusually tired. Seeing how I spent most of last night meditating, and the night before that actually sleeping, there is no logical reason for me to be this exhausted."

Jim almost replied that he found it totally logical to be tired after not sleeping for two days, but, of course, it was a different matter for Spock. Vulcans could go up to two weeks without sleep and even if Spock was only half-Vulcan such a heightened demand for sleep was indeed worrisome.

However, what was even more worrisome was how willing Spock suddenly seemed to admit to feeling unwell.

"Is something bothering you," Jim inquired.

"Do not concern yourself unnecessarily, captain," Spock said. "I shall be fine again in the morning."

And just as quickly we're back to avoiding the question, Jim thought, a little annoyed that Spock seemed to trust him so little. Still, he decided not to question him further today. If he still seemed off tomorrow he would sent him to Bones for a check-up.

"Let's call it a night then," he said, getting up from the bed and putting on his shoes. "I wouldn't want you to pass out on the bridge because I kept you from sleeping."

"That is rather unlikely to happen," Spock objected.

"Care to calculate the exact odds?" Jim joked, bending down slightly to start rubbing his left leg, which had fallen asleep from sitting cross-legged for so long.

"Are you alright, captain?" Spock inquired, choosing to ignore the previous question.

"Fine," Jim said, straightening again. "My legs just got a bit tingly from sitting."

Spock stood up as well, looking guilty. "I apologize for that. I usually meditate in a similar position so it did not affect me in a negative way, but I should have considered your comfort before suggesting this."

"It's alright," Jim assured, amused that Spock could get worked up over something so trivial. "Next time I'll just bring my chair."

\-----

Spock went to bed immediately after Jim left, hoping that the sore throat and headache that had been developing over the course of the evening would be alleviated by a good night's sleep. He regretted not being entirely truthful with the captain about his condition, but he had learned early in life not to admit to physical discomfort.

\-----

When he awoke a few hours later Spock felt awful. His head was pounding and, although he had turned up the heating in his room before going to sleep, he was now shivering violently under his blanket. A glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table told him it was 0118 hours.

He sat up in bed, planning to turn up the temperature control just a little bit more, but when he pushed himself to his feet the room started spinning around him. Bile rose into his mouth and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will the vertigo away.

He managed a few more steps towards the control panel on the wall before his stomach lurched suddenly. Heath rushed through his body and he quickly stumbled towards the bathroom.

His knees collided painfully with the tiled floor as he sank down in front of the toilet and started retching violently. A tiny whimper escaped him as his stomach cramped over and over until Spock was sure he had expelled even the last little bit of his dinner, but it still wouldn't stop.

He did not hear the other bathroom door open and was therefore startled quite badly when he felt a hand on his back and someone sank down on the floor beside him. An instinctive reaction, honed by hours of combat training, made him reach out for the intruder, aiming for the nerve points in his neck to disable a possible threat, but Jim caught his wrist halfway to his face.

"Shh," the captain murmured, unconsciously running his thumb over the sensitive skin on Spock's hand. "It's just me."

Spock did not acknowledge his captain's presence, instead gagging once more, only succeeding in bringing up bile and Jim moved his hand to Spock's back, starting to rub in soothing circles.

Spock felt his body shudder at the touch, or was it just from the cold?

He dry heaved a few more times before his stomach finally relented and then sank back in exhaustion his head rolling to the side to rest against his captain.

Jim flushed the toilet and then placed a steadying hand on Spock's shoulder, turning him to look into his face.

"Are you done for now," he inquired, keeping his voice soft, correctly guessing that Spock probably had a headache.

Spock nodded weakly. "I believe so."

"Can you stand up," Jim asked, closing the toilet lid and raising to his feet. Without waiting for an answer he pulled Spock with him into an upright position and then made him sit down on the toilet. "Stay here for a moment," he said.

Spock almost gave a sarcastic reply, something about having no intention of going anywhere, but something told him it would be inappropriate for him to say that, he just couldn't remember why. Anyway, he felt far too exhausted to talk.

A moment later Jim was beside him again, with a wet towel and a glass of water. He handed the towel to Spock and watched as the Vulcan cleaned up his face.

Noticing how badly Spock's hands were shaking Jim decided to keep hold of the water himself and brought the glass up to his commander's face.

"Just a few sips," he said, "To get rid of the taste." Spock complied and then closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. Jim eyed him with concern.

"Can you make it back to bed?" he inquired. Spock opened his eyes again, squinting up at Jim against the bright light of the bathroom.

"I… think so." He slowly stood up, noting with relief that the spinning sensation from earlier had almost completely abated. Nevertheless, he was grateful for the support when Jim grabbed one of his arms to steady him.

"Lights to 20 percent," Spock said hoarsely when they stepped into the bedroom. Jim guided him to his bed and helped him settle under the covers. Then he walked over to Spock's desk and pulled out the waste bin from underneath it.

"Just in case," he said as he put it down on the floor besides the bed.

He was halfway across the room again, intending to call for Bones with the comm device on the desk when the Spock's voice stopped him.

"Jim," he whispered. Jim whirled around to the bed. Spock rarely called him that. The Vulcan had curled up into a tight ball, the blanket pulled almost to his nose, but Jim could still see him shiver underneath it.

"I feel so cold," Spock said, glancing up pleadingly. "Could you turn up the room temperature?" His voice broke on the last word as he was overcome by a coughing fit. Jim stepped up to the bed, helping him into a more upright position. When Spock finally stopped coughing Jim bent down towards him, taking a moment to really look at his commander.

The normally olive toned face was flushed even more green at the moment and his eyes seemed glassy and a bit unfocused. Jim placed a hand on Spock's forehead and frowned, normally Spock's skin felt cool to the touch, since Vulcan's had a significantly lower body temperature than humans, but right now he could feel no difference to touching his own face. Spock must be running quite a fever for his temperature to rise up to human level.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Jim said in regard to Spock's earlier request. "You seem to have quite a high fever and the room is already much warmer than usual, even for your standards. However, I can get you a second blanket. That might be more effective to stop your shivering."

He had already walked across the room and opened Spock's cupboard when the Vulcan said: "Captain, I believe that the higher room temperature would be beneficial for my healing trance."

Jim pulled a spare blanket from the topmost shelf before turning back to his commander with a stern face.

"You're not going into any trance before Bones has checked you over."

Spock sighed. "You know very well that my unique physique makes me susceptible to unpleasant side effects, like vomiting, from doctor McCoy's medicine. I fail to see how it will help then, since I'm already feeling nauseous. It would be illogical to wake the doctor for nothing."

"Well, for one, he could help with your fever," Jim objected, unfolding the blanket and spreading it over Spock.

"Although I'm not so sure anymore, if it's as high as I thought. I'm estimating it about 4 points (7°F) above you're normal temperature, but I certainly wouldn't be talking as coherent as you in that case."

"I am able to resist higher increases in body temperature," Spock said.

"That is not to say that I do not have a fever," he added when he noticed Jim giving him a look that seemed to say _don't give me that shit you're obviously ill_ , "but the increase in temperature cannot be quantitatively compared to human standards."

Jim frowned, unsure if he could believe Spock on this.

"Alright," he finally relented, "try to get into your trance if you insist. But if this virus is human in nature you might very well fail to achieve it."

"You know I'm right," he added when Spock tried to object. "It has happened before. I'll give you half an hour and if you're still conscious then I'm going to call Bones."

"Affirmative," Spock said and closed his eyes, starting to relax his mind. However his eyes flew open again a moment later at an unexpected sound. Jim had pulled out his desk chair and was dragging it over to the bed.

"Captain," Spock objected, "there is no need for you to remain here. It is the middle of the night. You should go back to bed."

"I hadn't been asleep before anyway," Jim stated. And just as well, he though. He wasn't sure if he would have heard Spock in the bathroom if he had been sleeping already.

"And it's just for thirty minutes anyway," he added.

"If you insist," Spock sighed. "Lights to 10 percent," he ordered and closed his eyes again.

Jim shortly returned to his room to fetch his PADD and then quietly settled into the chair to read through some reports.

\-----

"Spock?" Jim prompted 30 minutes later, reaching out to lightly touch the Vulcan's shoulder. If he had actually managed the trance the contact would not be enough to disturb him.

Spock sighed inwardly at the touch. Unfortunately, he was still very much conscious. Over the last half an hour his headache had steadily intensified again, making it impossible for him to slip into a meditative state, let alone a full trance. On top of that, his stomach was staring to churn again as well.

Not for the first time this night Spock cursed his human half that made him so susceptible to illness, and often incapable of battling them the Vulcan way.

For a moment he considered not to react to Jim's prompting, but the captain would be furious with him later when he found out that Spock had deceived him. And find out he would. A healing trance normally lasted multiple hours, and in the morning Jim would surely get McCoy to check on him. It wouldn't take the doctor two minutes to figure out from his vitals that he was not, in fact, in a healing trance.

That aside, even though he was reluctant to admit it, even to himself, he really felt quite awful at the moment and was craving for Jim's comfort. Yes, he decided wryly, definitely a human virus if it was making him so emotional.

"Captain," he said wearily as he opened his eyes. "It seems I am incapable at present to achieve a calm state of mind."

Jim refrained from saying _I told you so_ when he noticed the pained expression in the Vulcan's eyes.

"You still have a headache?" he guessed.

Spock merely hummed in agreement. The room had started spinning again when he opened his eyes and he was therefore reluctant to move his head.

Jim got up and fetched a glass of water from the bathroom.

"Here," he said holding it out to Spock, "that should help. You lost a lot of fluids earlier and are probably dehydrated."

Spock swallowed thickly. "I'd rather not, captain. I believe I'm going to vomit again if I move so much as an inch."

Jim placed the glass on the nightstand and sat down on the edge of Spock's bed, reaching for the waste basket.

"It might be good to just let it happen," he said. "You'll probably feel better afterwards."

Spock pondered that for a moment. He really didn't want to vomit again but on the other hand he was sure that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep with the amount of discomfort he was currently in.

Making up his mind he nodded almost imperceptible and then slowly started to sit up. As anticipated his stomach lurched with the movement and he lunged for the bin that Jim held out to him. He felt a hand run soothingly through his hair as he proceeded to retch and, luckily, this time it was over much more quickly than earlier that night.

"Finished?" Jim asked when Spock raised his head again. The Vulcan nodded and Jim took the bin to the bathroom while Spock settled back into bed. His stomach felt raw from throwing up, but the room had stopped spinning, so he counted it as an overall improvement.

Jim returned with a wet towel that Spock gratefully accepted to wipe his face.

"Are you still forbidding me from calling Bones," he asked with a worried frown, already knowing the answer.

"It will achieve nothing," Spock said as expected. "I simply have to endure the symptoms until my body defeats the virus."

He reached for the glass on the nightstand and took a few sips. "My headache is diminishing again," he continued. "I believe I might be able to sleep now."

"Alright," Jim sighed, "but I'm not leaving you alone." He was well aware that Spock would never wake him if he needed assistance and he just couldn't bring himself to let his commander suffer on his own.

For a moment, Spock looked like he wanted to argue, but then his face turned thoughtful. It was clear from the determined expression on Jim's face that he would be unable to convince him to go to bed, but he could not allow his captain to sleep in a chair, either.

"Very well," he finally said, "but I must insist that you get some sleep as well."

And before Jim could say anything in response the Vulcan had shifted over on the bed and held up his blankets in a clear invitation.

Jim stared for a moment, unsure what to make of this. But if Spock was offering on his own surely he must be alright with it, emotion-wise, or maybe he had just fabricated himself a perfectly logical reason for doing it.

"Ok…," Jim said slowly.

"Are you warm enough at present?"

Yes, it seems that an additional blanket is serving much better at keeping me comfortable than an increased temperature of the whole room," Spock admitted.

"Good, I'll turn down the temperature a little then. I don't think I could fall asleep in this heat."

"Do you mind if I take off my shirt?" Jim asked, after adjusted the temperature controls. It would take some time for the change to take effect and with a feverish Spock and two blankets in the bed he was sure it would be quite toasty.

"I will not object if it makes you more comfortable."

"Ok," Jim said again and took off his pajama top, placing it over the backrest of the chair. Then he lay down besides Spock and turned to face him.

"You're really ok with this?" he asked.

"We are friends, Jim. I think I can endure to have you at closer proximity than normal for one night if it will prevent you from getting a crick in your neck from sleeping in a chair."

Jim smiled at that. "How much closer proximity?" he asked teasingly, pulling the blankets up halfway to his chest before reaching out to draw Spock closer towards him.

At first the Vulcan did not resists his actions, but then he struggled out of the embrace again, saying: "On second thought, it might be unwise for you to stay so close for the whole night. I do not wish to infect you."

"It's a little late to think about that," Jim said, and when he felt Spock stiffen beside him hastily added, "I don't blame you for getting sick, Spock. But I've been sitting next to you while you throw up, so, if I'm going to catch this, then I probably already have.

However, it is my own fault for wanting to take care of you - and I certainly don't regret it. So stop worrying and go to sleep."

He swore he could see a faint smile tugging at Spock's lips in response to his little tirade, and then Spock shifted closer to him again until his head rested against Jim's bare chest.

"Yes, Jim," he murmured. "Thank you."


End file.
